When most people meet my four year old daughter, Olivia…(actually, she’s “four and a half”) they are always impressed with her self confidence and focus. She’s my little angel, but I know she will be a reflection of my ability to raise a child. Fortunately, my wife spends her days with her at home, enjoying every minute of it. They play games, read books, do craft projects, paint, and work in the yard. Basically, Olivia is our number one priority.
We have decided it’s best to struggle a little financially in order for my wife to stay home and give her “all” toward raising our only child. Is she spoiled? Probably, but not how you would think. We don’t buy a bunch of toys or spend money on things that she’ll forget about in a week. Olivia doesn’t even ask for much, except the other night, she mentioned she wanted an Ipad…to play “learning games” on. Right…”learning games.”
I guess I laugh because she reminds me of myself in so many ways, but I know I didn’t have the same confidence she has at such an early age. I’d like to think it’s because she has a father who spends time with her, building her confidence. My parents divorced when I was two, so like many children, the only “father” figures I had were my uncles and grandfather. Fortunately they were there for me when I needed them, but because they had lives of their own, or were busy building businesses, I spent most of my time with my grandmother.
I can remember thinking, at an early age, how nice it would be to have a real father…someone to teach me things and be there for me when I needed him. But, those are the thoughts we single parent kids all think. So, when I became a father, I knew I would go the extra mile to be there for my child…boy or girl.
How do I build Olivia’s confidence? Here’s just one example.
There’s a park in our neighborhood we visit to let her “exhaust” herself when she’s craving the slides, swings, merry-go-round and forts. There’s also some monkey bars/dome, with a gap at the highest point. The bars are just far enough apart, that you must straddle them, placing one foot on each bar, while holding another bar and scooting yourself to the other side, allowing you to complete the climb from one side to the other. When she was two, she wanted to climb it alone, but could barely go from bar to bar. We’d go back and each time, she’s go a little further. When she was three, she tried it again and was determined to cross the gap on her own.
I stood there, right next to her and helped place each foot on the bar. I guided her and suggested where she hold the other bars with her hands and coached her along. She was nervous…looking straight down, realizing if she fell, she could really hurt herself. But she knew she wouldn’t fall because I was right there to catch her. She re-focused and continued to cross the gap. When she made it to the other side and climbed down the rest of the way to the ground, she yelled out…”I did it!”
“Yes you did Livie!” I replied, knowing exactly how much she had to overcome to finally achieve her goal of making it to the other side on her own. I was there for her. I helped her realize she could do it on her own and gave her the confidence to try.
Fathers, be an inspiration to your children. Teach them how to succeed and guide them down the right path. Most importantly, be there for your children.
Thank God for Grandparents
(As Published in Tiempo Newspaper)
We worked as kids…not like slave labor, but we learned a work ethic and were taught to earn our way through life. Although my grandparents had plenty of money to get us whatever we wanted, if we didn’t need it, we rarely got it.
My grandfather taught me how to multiply and encouraged me to read and practice my penmanship. He woke up each day, had breakfast with us and drove me to school. My grandmother taught me how to make paper airplanes and kept a close eye on me, making sure I never got out of line.
We were safe and loved…and that’s all that mattered.
Sure, we didn’t grow up with all the toys and gadgets our friends and cousins had, but we were content to have a roof over our heads and food on the table. Every night, my grandmother read stories to us and even though she must have been tired, when asked to tell it again, she never hesitated.
We got through it, like many kids of broken homes. Eventually, my mother remarried and came home to get us and start a new life. We struggled and lived in the country with no water or electricity.
For several years, we squeaked through life, until that marriage came to an end.
Again, we were back at our grandparent’s. They welcomed us with open arms and were happy to get us through the phase we were in. By this time, I was in Jr. High, and realized my grandparents were wise people, willing to teach us everything they knew. I remember talking to my grandfather about advice. He was always sure to say things in a way that allowed me to figure things out myself. I never understood why he didn’t just answer my questions…until I had my own child.
I’m thankful for my grandparents and for all grandparents who have stepped up to raise their grand kids. They never expected to have to endure the difficulty of raising grand kids, but they did it because it was the right thing to do. They never complained. They never got tired…or at least we never knew it.
If only parents felt the responsibility of their parents, we might not have the problems we have in our Hispanic communities. We might have more fathers around to help discipline the kids and provide guidance they need, now more than ever.
There’s a saying I always repeat to myself, “You are where you are because of the choices you make.” If you don’t like where you are, you need to make different choices. Same goes with the community. If we don’t like where it’s headed, we need to do something different. For starters, we can do a better job raising our kids. We can prepare them for the future, so they can achieve success and pass more to their kids.
Next time you see your grandparents, let them know how much they mean to you and how much you appreciate everything they’ve done for you. One day, they’ll be gone, but their wisdom will live on.